Heaven For Everyone
by Kimiki
Summary: Quatre is in the hospital, and his parents are forbidding Trowa to see him. How will Quatre's sister deal with this? How can Trowa deal with his love's approaching death? (Done for World AIDS day)


**Author's Notes**: I based all dates on the following site: Please do not quote me on any of this. (According to this site, 'Incorporating World AIDS Day on 1 December each year, AIDS Awareness Week is the main public awareness campaign for HIV, which is held around the world each year. The sale of red ribbons to raise money for people living with HIV/AIDS is a primary focus. ACSA is responsible for coordinating AIDS Awareness Week in South Australia.' So, this is what I'm going on… except for the whole Australia thing… This is set in the good ole' United States of America, where most people are close minded about these things anyway. Oh well, that's a different rant. Onto the fic…)

I am doing both a 1x2 fic, and a 3x4 fic for this. 1x2 is titled: No One But You (Only The Good Die Young). The 3x4 is titled: Heaven For Everyone. Both are song fics, so, if you don't like, leave now. And, if you don't like character death, then I would also suggest for you to leave. This is not going to be very pretty…

**Warnings**: See above paragraph. Read above paragraph. Now, Read fic.

**Heaven for Everyone**

Walking down the white hallways, Trowa Barton irritably swiped at his one long bang, pushing it away from his bright green eyes. He was headed to a part of the hospital that he had hoped that he would never have to walk down; this was the part of the hospital where they kept the patients that could never be cured. Blinking away the moisture that was collecting behind his eyes, he swiped at his eyes this time, quickening his pace so that he reached the room 898, knocking on the door before entering. Even though he had to live in this horrible place, his small lover still liked to have his privacy respected. Especially because he was living here, Trowa thought, with all the nurses and doctors continually coming in. Giving a weak smile, he walked to the side of the bed and sat in one of the two chairs, gently taking the pale man's hand in his own large ones. Brushing at the blonde bangs, he whispered, "Quatre…" to the sleeping man, trying to ignore the many machines surrounding the bed and the IV drip that was placed in the man's left arm.

Bending his head, the tall man asked miserably, "Why can't you get better? Why…?"

_(This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven for everyone_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven for everyone)_

"Mother! Father!" Iria Winner cried out as she saw the familiar forms of her parents enter the waiting room. Running to them, she hugged each tightly, tears flowing down her face. Embracing her daughter, Mrs. Winner asked, "Why aren't you in there dear? I will go with you, but I am surprised that you would not want to be there yourself. Really, think of how much time Quatre has left."

"Mother," Iria protested, wrenching herself free from her mother's grasp, "Trowa is in there at the moment. I just thought that the two of them might like some time to be alone."

"Why should he be back there?" Mrs. Winner demanded, eyes alighting in a fury that her daughter had never seen. Sure, she knew that her parents didn't share her views on Quatre's lifestyle, but really, could anybody help the fact that the boy had been attracted to other males? Not wanting to go down that dark alleyway just yet, Iria returned to the present time in the waiting room and guided her mother and father to the chairs near herself and her husband, who, thankfully shared her views on Quatre's lifestyle. Seating her parents, Iria began to stall the two, hoping to give Trowa and Quatre as much alone time that she could.

_(In these days of cool reflection (reflection)_

_You come to me and everything seems alright_

_In these days of cold affections_

_You sit by me - and everything's fine)_

Feeling a presence beside him, Quatre slowly struggled with his eyelids, weakly looking at the man seated next to him, who was gently stroking his hand that had an IV in it. Wincing at the light, Quatre allowed his eyes to adjust before smiling weakly at the man and whispering a quiet, "Trowa…"

"Shh…" the other man said, bending down and gently kissing the bedridden man's lips. Letting his own lips linger just a second longer, Trowa leaned his forehead against his sick lover's and said, "Your parents are probably here by now."

"Really? They came to see me?" Quatre asked excitedly. So far, his parents had refused to come see him while he was sick, saying that they would not do so until he renounced his lifestyle. Yet, once the doctors had called them and told them that he only had a week, two weeks at most, to live, they had told Ira that they would be coming. Now they were here! He could see them before… before he… died…

Closing his eyes at the pain that came with that last thought, Quatre felt a pair of hands squeeze his own in comfort, trying to give strength in some strange way, since the young man could not be saved, even by the best medicine available. His sickness just had no cure.

Because he had AIDS.

How he had gotten it, he did not know, since he had always been very careful with whom he had had pleasure. Yet, he had contracted the disease, and was now on his deathbed. He had written his will when he first became sick, something that he was proud of now. Most did not, feeling that they were not dying at all, that this was just some awful nightmare that they would wake up from soon. Many believed that until the last hour or so, until the pain became so painful that they realized that this was the awful reality to their life, right before their life was ended. Quatre doubted his ability to make coherent decisions now, and that was why he was so proud of his foresight of creating his will, securing that Trowa would inherit all his belongings, since they were not able to actually have a marriage license. _At least we have that lousy paper called a Civil Union, which at least recognizes us as being partners_, Quatre thought angrily. But, what good was it for him to be angry at the way the world is now, he thought depressedly, he was just going to die soon anyway.

Suddenly, he felt a pair of arms encircle him, and the object of his love for the past seven years tell him, "Don't get that look in your eyes. It… scares me…"

"Trowa…" Quatre said, his eyes watering. If there was one thing that he never wanted to do, it was scare or worry his partner. He wanted to pull his arms up to return the hug, yet he found that he was too weak to do so. The arm with the IV in it was numb, and the right arm just would not move! Burying his nose in Trowa's shoulder, Quatre's eyes opened in alarm as he heard the shrill voice of his mother demand, "GET YOUR ARMS OFF MY SON, YOU FAIRY!"

Immediately, Quatre felt Trowa tighten his arms, not moving for several moments, until he felt the other man give him a kiss to the forehead before pulling back. Looking at Trowa carefully, Quatre smiled softly when he saw that his lover was smirking. Trowa and his parents had never gotten along. It could be because of the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Winner wanted their son to marry and continue the family name. Or it could be because Trowa represented the part of Quatre's life that they had no control over.

"I'll visit you later." Trowa promised, and then made a big show of kissing the blonde on the cheek, right where the edges of the man's lips were. Glad that he (for once!) was not blushing, Quatre watched him walk past the Winner parents, leaving the room and heading, presumably, for the waiting area. _'I just hope that Iria is there to keep him company…'_ Quatre thought before turning his attention to his parents.

"Now, Quatre," Mrs. Winner began, scrutinizing the chair that Trowa had been occupying only moments before. It was almost like she was afraid of the plastic thing, just because a gay had sat in it. _'But, that is my mother.'_ Quatre thought miserably as he watched the woman gently seat herself on the edge of the chair, almost like if she sat in it all the way, Trowa would have won some sort of battle. _'Anything that does not meet her standards is imperfect, a stain in her spotless life. And, I guess that I am just one big dirt smudge on the family, in her eyes anyway…'_

"We need to talk."

_(This could be heaven for everyone_

_This world could be fed, this world could be fun_

_This could be heaven for everyone_

_This world could be free, this world could be one)_

Walking into the waiting room, Trowa found himself suddenly being embraced by Quatre's older sister, Iria. Hugging him tightly, she asked, "Are you okay? They didn't circumcise you, did they?" Smiling thinly at her joke, Trowa said, "No, they, well, actually, more like your mother told me to get out. That's the edited version anyway."

"Oh Trowa, don't listen to her! She doesn't see true love even when it's right in front of her! She can't stop you from seeing Quatre, anymore than she can stop the sun from rising. She can pull down the shades to block out the light, but it is still there, no matter what."

"What about when the sun sets?" Trowa asked, pain filling his voice. How could Quatre be dying? How could this be happening to one of the few good people in the world? What grievous sin had he, Trowa Barton, committed to deserve this punishment?

"It has to set, Trowa, so that it can rise again. Actually, if you think about, it isn't the sun that is moving, just the earth's position. So, it is still there, right where it has always been, we just can't see it at times, but the memory of its warmth gets us through the cruel and cold nights."

Smiling, Trowa lightly hugged the older woman and said, "Thank you Iria. For helping me, and not shunning me like I have… like I am some sort of…"

"Don't worry about it. Now, how is your sister?" Iria asked, deftly changing the topic to a less heart wrenching one. However, their relief from the situation was short-lived. It ended once the Winner parents came back into the waiting area.

"Iria, come here." Mr. Winner commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. Standing and making her way to their side, Iria asked, "Yes father?"

"We have asked for Quatre to formally apologize to the family for being the way that he is. We are also having him renounce his ways, repenting for his sins, while he still has a chance. He is writing both of those letters at the moment. Please gather them from him and give them to us tomorrow." he instructed his eldest child.

"Aren't you coming to see him tomorrow?" Iria asked, widening her eyes at her parent's next word.

"No."

Saying their good-byes, Iia stood by her parent's car as they climbed in, preparing to go to their four star hotel and unpack while their son lay dying in a hospital, while the visiting hours were still open. Rolling down her window, Mrs. Winner instructed her daughter, "Oh, and don't let that fag see Quatre anymore." Driving off, they left Iria to walk back inside, her eyes red from unshed tears. Walking up to Trowa and pulling him to his feet, Iria made her way down the hallway with the taller man in tow.

"Where are we going?" Trowa asked as they passed by the check in station.

"To my little brother's room." Iria stated calmly. "Where else?"

Trowa's only reply was to smile warmly at the woman and to follow her through the maze of hallways that he had long since memorized. Maybe Quatre's parents didn't like and/ or approve of him, but, at lease, he had one ally.

_(In this world of cool deception_

_Just your smile can smooth my ride_

_These troubled days of cruel rejection, hmm_

_You come to me, soothe my troubled mind)_

Walking into the room, Iria and Trowa saw Quatre struggling to write, his hand-eye coordination not operating correctly, resulting in just a blur of scribbles on the page. Seeing them, he said, "I can't… Why won't it work? It's just so… frustrating to be… so weak…" Rushing to her brother's side and gathering him into her embrace, Iria said, "Don't you dare talk that way! You are so much stronger than anyone else I know! Not everyone could handle what you are going through right now! I know that I couldn't."

"You mean the disease." Quatre stated, his voice dead and lifeless.

"That too." Iria agreed, pulling back from the hug only far enough so that she could look him in the eyes, Iria continued, "I'm also referring to Mom and Dad."

"Oh." the blonde said, looking at his paper that was covered in scribbles. Taking the paper and pen from him, Iria stated, "Mom and Dad just told me to get your letters from you. Now, is this an 'A'? And that is an 'L', correct? Well, that's two letters, so I've done my job."

"What are you talking about Sis?" Quatre asked, slightly confused.

"Well, Mom and Dad told me to get 'letters' from you. Now, I know what they meant, but I'm just gonna use this 'A' and 'L' and be done with it. I can say that I typed the letters for you, because your handwriting was so sloppy. Now, you don't sign 'QRW', do you?" Iria asked, looking her ill brother in the eye.

"No. Why?" Quatre asked, beginning to understand what his sister was getting at.

"Why, I'm going to write fake letters for you, silly!" Iria exclaimed, folding the paper carefully and placing it in her wallet. Bending down, she kissed the top of his head and said, "Don't let them get to you. They've always had people bend to their will. But, by me doing the letters for you, it won't be you saying anything, just some person who signs 'QRW'. They won't win anything, and you won't feel like you aren't being who you truly are. And, I love you Quatre. That is why I'm doing this." Gently brushing his bangs away from his eyes, Iria placed a gentle kiss on Quatre's forehead before straightening and preparing to leave. However, she felt a weak pressure on her wrist and looked down to see Quatre looking up at her. Bending down, she asked, "What is it?"

"Please… at my funeral… look out for Trowa. I don't want him to be alone, and…" Quatre trailed off, his voice becoming thick.

"Don't worry about it. He is part of our family, even if our parents don't see it that way." Iria stated, finding her brother's hands and squeezing them in reassurance. "I won't let him be alone."

"Thank you." Quatre breathed softly, closing his eyes and drifting into a light sleep. Watching him for a few moments, she asked Trowa, "He is really far gone, isn't he?"

Not answering, Trowa reclaimed his previous chair, grasping Quatre's hand again, bending over the pale hand as if in prayer. Closing the door behind her, Ira left the two alone. If her parents asked, she had left once Quatre fell asleep. It was the truth, after all.

_(Yeah, this could be heaven for everyone_

_This world could be fed, (yeah) this world could be fun_

_This should be love for everyone, yeah_

_This world should be free, (yeah) this world could be one_

_We should bring love to our daughters and sons_

_Love, love, love, this could be heaven for everyone_

_You know that_

_This could be heaven for everyone yes_

_Ha ha haa_

_This could be heaven for everyone, yea he he he - who_

_Heaven for everyone)_

Nine days later, Quatre had died, and the preparations for his funeral were being made. Soon, a large gathering of black-clad people were gathered in his memory, reading stories of his life, placing flowers on his casket. Since she had to do a reading, Iria was unable to sit with Trowa and his sister, who were at the back, but her husband had filled her place, making sure that the two were not alone. However, once they were at the dinner afterwards, Iria overheard her mother telling another woman how she was glad that Quatre had repented of his sins when he did (Ira had made and given her parents the fake letters). While passing her mother, Iria said, only loud enough for the woman's ears alone, "At least you have him away from Trowa now, right mother?"

_(Listen - what people do to other souls_

_They take their lives - destroy their goals_

_Their basic pride and dignity_

_Is stripped and torn and shown no pity_

_When this should be heaven for everyone)_

As they were driving Trowa and his sister home, Iria and her husband chatted with the two. A quiet man by nature, Trowa had not said much, yet surprised the other three in the car when he suddenly smacked his head with this hand while mumbling something under his breath to himself. Asking him what it was, Iria was surprised to see him suddenly holding out an unaddressed envelope to her. Blinking, she took it and asked, "What is this?"

"It's from Quatre. He wanted you to have it. Don't read it here; wait until you at your home. He asked me to give it to you." the man explained to the woman.

"Thank you Trowa…" Iria said, holding the letter to her chest as if cradling a fragile doll that might break if she pressed it too hard. After dropping the siblings off, Ira's husband drove them to their own house, where Iria immediately went to their library and sat in one of the plush chairs, pulling out the papers and carefully reading each.

_(This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven for everyone_

_This could be heaven wooh_

_Could be heaven for everyone_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_Could be heaven for everyone_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_Could be heaven for everyone_

_This could be heaven)_

_'Dear Iria'_, the letter read,

_'By the time that you read this, you will have probably have arrived home from my funeral. I wish that I could not have been there… But, you can't escape death.'_

_(This could be heaven for everyone_

_This could be heaven ooh_

_Could be heaven for everyone_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_Love love love love love_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_This could be heaven_

_For everyone)_

_'I just want you to know that you have all my love, and that I appreciate you standing up for me against Mom and Dad. They have asked me to repent for who I am, and, guess what else; Mom asked me if I had apologized to dad for the way that I am! But, don't worry, I didn't. Anything that I might have said was done just to get them off my back. Sis, thank you so much for just accepting me and Trowa, and our relationship. You really don't know how much it means to me to know that my whole family does not hate me. _

Sis, I don't want to leave, but I know that I no longer have a choice in the matter. Please, don't cry for me for too long, but don't forget me either. I love you, just as I love Mom and Dad, for all their faults. And, please, make sure that they don't challenge my will. Everything in there is just the way I want it.'

_(For everyone)_

_'With all my love, Always your little brother, Quatre.'_


End file.
